Warmth
by Kirenza
Summary: It's wintertime in Zaphias, and Flynn is (as always) buried in his work. But that doesn't stop Yuri from paying a visit and providing him with a long-overdue break from his duties. Yuri & Flynn friendship, oneshot.


**A/N:** It has been far too long since my last fic! I've been really into Tales of Vesperia lately, especially Yuri and Flynn. This oneshot mainly deals with their friendship, and I should note that this takes place post-game. Which is kind of silly, because I haven't finished the game myself. I just know the basic idea of what happens at the end (I'm trying to stay at least somewhat spoiler-free), so if there are any discrepancies, just let me know.

I also apologize if anyone seems OOC at points. Yuri's pretty easy for me to write, but Flynn? Not so much. It's more of his reactions/responses that I'm having problems with. So feel free to tell me if anything does seem OOC, too!

It was loads of fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it. uvu

* * *

The mid-afternoon sun cast a pale light in the town of Zaphias, alighting a layer of snow that had covered the town. Despite the chill that clung to the air, Yuri hadn't opted for a thicker wool coat as he strolled through the streets. He had, however, clasped shut the tunic that always bared his chest. His arms lay folded against his body, hands rubbing his forearms to keep warmth circulating. The palace of Zaphias came into view as he continued through the royal town, and though he very much would've preferred to enter though his usual means—scaling the tower to Flynn's room—, a layer of ice coated the bricks, rendering it impossible to climb.

And so Yuri strolled to the castle's entrance, waving a greeting at the guards before entering. Even inside, the winter chill lingered, through it was noticeably warmer. By now, he could practically navigate to Flynn's room with his eyes closed. Soon he stood before the white marble doors, hand reaching forward to push them open. But he recalled how Flynn had requested numerous times (and rather irritably) that he knock before entering, and so Yuri rapped twice against the white marble.

"You may enter," Flynn called from within, voice muffled by the door.

Yuri took hold of an ornate golden handle and pushed the door open, letting it fall closed behind him. He rubbed his hands together, softly breathing onto them to help chase the remaining coldness away. As usual, Yuri found his longtime friend hunched over at a desk. The quiet scratch of a pen reached his ears, quickly drowned out by his footsteps. Flynn didn't spare so much as a glance in Yuri's direction, even when the swordsman had placed a hand on the back of his chair.

"Do you ever take a break?" Yuri asked, soliciting a sigh from the blond man.

"What do you want?" he replied, and Yuri flinched. It wasn't often Flynn used that tone, even around Yuri. Something was troubling him, that much was certain.

"Geez. Sorry, man. Just wanted to check up on you."

Flynn sighed again, not breaking from his writing to regard his friend. "No, I'm sorry. I'm just very busy at the moment."

_You always are,_ Yuri wanted to say. "I can tell."

They'd both anticipated just how much work Flynn would have upon becoming the Commandant, but it was still hard to accept. The two hardly had time for regular visits; even when Yuri did drop by, the blond man was in a state of fatigue, buried in work. Couldn't be healthy for him.

"What do you need?" Flynn asked, his tone much lighter.

"Let's go out tonight," Yuri said. That did make Flynn pause, turn his head slightly to glance up at this angle, he could see that Flynn's eyelids had gained a slight red tint to them from lack of sleep.

"You know very well that I can't," he replied. "I have this report to finish, and I have to start on other important business afterwards."

"Well, when are you free? Oh, right. You never are."

"Yuri," he scolded. "You do not understand how important my duties as Commandant are. I'm responsible for overseeing this entire empire, mobilize knights... Countless things."

"Yes, but keep pushing yourself like this, and you won't be able to do _anything_."

Flynn opened his mouth, but withheld his reply, looking aside. He took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I admit, I should take time for myself. But I can't just take tonight off and go off to some tavern. It's unprofessional."

Yuri shrugged. "Doesn't have to be a tavern. We could just take a walk, go eat somewhere."

"I suppose dinner would be nice," he agreed. "Tomorrow."

"Great. Meet me at the usual place. I'll just leave you to your stuff, then."

With a smile—a genuine one, not that overconfident smirk he always wore—Yuri briefly patted Flynn's shoulder, turning to leave. Yuri couldn't help chuckling lightly at the blond's surprised expression, and he hummed quietly to himself as he strolled out of Flynn's room, making his way back to the Lower Quarter.

* * *

It was a surprisingly upscale restaurant Yuri had chosen; or, at least, better than that little one in the Lower Quarter they sometimes stopped by. Sure, it was small and charming, but hardly even qualified as a café. Flynn wondered how his friend would even have the money for this, but then again, Brave Vesperia _had_ been receiving an influx of missions. Maybe he'd be able to afford his own place soon enough, move out of the Lower Quarter.

No, he doubted Yuri would ever move from there. He'd lived there his entire life. Just from how he interacted with the people, Flynn could see the tight bond he had with the people, how deeply he cared for their lives. Even as kids, Yuri was always the one to take care of the other orphans. He'd taken more fists to the face protecting them from bullies, and the occasional stupid drunk, than Flynn could count.

"Hey," Yuri said, snapping Flynn back to the present. His friend was waving his fork before him, a pineapple speared on the end. "You're doing it again. Stop it."

"Sorry," Flynn sighed, gazing down at the dessert before him: a simple, unadorned cheesecake. 'Just like you,' Yuri had remarked when the sweets had been brought out, soliciting a kick from Flynn to his shin under the table. More of a nudge, really, but Yuri (as always) overreacted.

Across the table was Yuri's half-eaten parfait: layers of pinks and whites, strawberries, and an uneaten piece of waffle cone. Flynn couldn't help chuckling. Yuri was enamored with sweets and cooking, something Flynn envied; he couldn't even make a pot of soup without it burning somehow.

"So like I was saying," Yuri continued, "this guy had the nerve to try and stand us up on the payment. So Judy gets up in his face and gives him this bone-chilling threat, all with that little smirk of hers. I don't know how she does it. But we ended up getting full payment,_ and _a little extra as an apology."

"She's quite the... adamant young woman, isn't she?"

"She's _crazy_ complex, Flynn. I can't even tell what she's thinking half the time." Yuri paused, smirking. "Kind of like you, sometimes."

"I'd say that's an asset." Flynn tried to keep the confident grin off his face as he ate, but he could feel it tugging at his lips. "Can't have everyone knowing of the Commandant's secrets, can we?"

"What, you got some skeletons in the closet?" he chuckled. Flynn kicked at him again, this time with more gusto.

"That's not polite, Yuri," he scolded. "And no, I don't."

Yuri rolled his eyes, stabbing a strawberry. "It's just a joke. Lighten up, man."

Flynn continued eating to prevent the argument from bubbling up and erupting, like they so often did. He wasn't about to have this relatively pleasant evening spoiled by Yuri's appetite for competition. Thankfully, the rest of the meal retained the peace, and as they stepped into the winter night afterwards, Flynn grumbled slightly to himself. Cold weather wasn't exactly his cup of tea. He didn't mind the snow so much; it was more how the chill seemed to creep inside him and settle on his bones, no matter how much he bundled up. He was glad that at least Yuri had thrown on a wool coat, despite his initial protests. The cold never seemed to bother him at all, the lucky guy.

Moonlight and the faint glow of streetlamps glistened in the snow, and if he looked hard enough, Flynn could discern flakes of snow drifting from the night sky. Already a light coating dusted the streets, and Flynn hoped it wasn't concealing a layer of ice. Yuri had already made his way onward; Flynn stepped cautiously onto the brick street, glad to find that his footing wasn't difficult.

Not surprisingly, the streets of Zaphias were emptier than usual. Many citizens had taken to the indoors to combat the chilly weather, though quite a few children bounded through the streets, throwing snowballs at one another and catching snowflakes on their tongue. Flynn was suddenly brought back to his childhood years in the Lower Quarter, of chasing Yuri down the street, tackling him and rolling around in the snow despite protests from his frozen fingers.

Something collided with Flynn's shoulder, snow exploding around him. His head whipped around to find Yuri nearly doubled over behind him from laughter. A grin spread across Flynn's face before he could stop it, and he leaned down, packing snow tightly into a ball and launching it at his friend, a square hit to the chest. Yuri nearly fell over from the impact, laughing all the while, and soon the children had joined in the snowball fight as well. Flynn's jacket became coated with clumps and flakes of snow, and he realized it'd be a pain to clean off later. But now, he didn't care in the slightest.

A snowball smacked Flynn in the face, disorienting him, and he quickly met the pile of snow beneath him. He shook his head, trying to chase away stars in his eyes, and found Yuri hovering over him.

"Sorry, man. You alright?" he asked, half-chuckling as he knelt down.

Flynn grasped his coat and dragged Yuri into the snow beside him, laughing as he flung snow at his friend. Hands and feet and limbs flailed around, and Flynn tasted snow and ice, felt a kick at his stomach. His hand connected with Yuri's face, and he fell atop Flynn, their laughter pealing through the street. Flynn wriggled out from beneath him, and they lay side by side in the snow pile. He didn't even care that snow had somehow snuck down his collar and irritated his skin. The snow tumbled over him, gleaming like stardust, and he wished he could just stay here beside the warmth of his dearest friend, not a care in the world.

"It's getting pretty cold," Yuri remarked. "We should probably head back before we start freezing to death."

Flynn sighed. "Yes, you're right. I could use some tea right now. You can join me for some back at the palace, if you'd like."

"Yeah, I'd like that."

Yuri stood, dusting off what snow he could from his jacket and offering a hand to Flynn. As he took hold of it, Flynn surreptitiously collected snow in his free hand, wanting to pull the trick Yuri had always done to him as a kid. He let Yuri walk ahead of him, and after a few steps, yanked his friend's collar back and shoved the snow down the opening. Yuri yelped as he frantically patted at his back, yelling curses. Laughter again rose in Flynn's chest, watching as Yuri flailed around and shook the snow out from his shirt.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" Yuri teased, lightly shoving Flynn as they continued on through the street.

"Hey, you're the one who always did that to me as a kid," Flynn retorted. "It's payback."

Yuri smirked, resting his hands behind his neck. "That's right. How could I forget that priceless expression? But if I remember correctly, you were always the one pelting me with snowballs."

"True. It's a fair trade, then, I guess."

"Race you back to the palace," Yuri said, glancing over his shoulder.

Flynn opened his mouth to respond, but already his friend was bounding down the street, laughter echoing through the alleys. With a sigh Flynn chased after him, back to the warmth of the palace and the company of friendship with bonds impossible to be severed.


End file.
